


A Frigid Embrace

by Fluffster



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-19 23:24:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9465236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluffster/pseuds/Fluffster
Summary: D.Va, Soldier and Lucio kick Reapers ass, and in response he tortures her mercilessly. Thats basically it. Do NOT READ IF YOU MIGHT BE TRIGGERED BY RAPE OR SUICIDE.





	

Reaper barely felt the report of his shotguns anymore. The raw power of them were often forgotten by his inhuman form, even though a single blast could rip most humans clean in two. A feat he was all too eager to demonstrate as the first wave of Overwatch forces crossed into the outpost. The very first man went down immediately, the report of Widows Kiss shattering the war cries of the offenders as man after man fell to her precise shots.

 

Similarly, the first man within Reapers range earned himself a body full of lead, shotguns roaring in unison as he began to counterattack. He dimly saw the Talon lackeys scramble around him, forming a support line, but his eyes only saw Overwatch, and his shotguns tore anybody within range to mincemeat.

 

He knew that these first waves were nothing more than cannon fodder, and that the special agents had been saved in case the resistance they met was token. Yet as he teleported behind the terrified infantrymen, he couldn't care less. A cold, sadistic laugh escaped his freezing lungs as he tore them apart from the rear, unerring accuracy ripping man after man into strips, blood speckling him, then engulfing him as he slaughtered them down to the final heartbeat.

 

He turned, chuckling darkly, shotguns discarded into the Aether as he lifted his mask. His tongue flicked out, tasting the blood splattered on his gloves, the sharp metallic taste briefly igniting a spark he had long forgotten ago. The taste was rapidly forgotten, however, when Tracer blinked into the picture, and he grinned silently as he held his other hand out in a wide, sweeping motion, inviting her to bask in his carnage.

 

He knew how he must look. A demon of night, who mercilessly slaughtered an unprepared force, their chilling flesh still fresh behind him as he gleefully ran his tongue against his thumb. The face she made, one of indescribable anguish, tears prickling her eyes as she fought to not collapse, amused him greatly. He wondered how many of them she had personally known. How many families tears she felt upon her shoulder for allowing them to charge in unsupported.

 

Widow's Kiss roared again, taking Tracer square in the neck. Reaper laughed out loud, shotguns materialising into his hands as he fired at the wounded woman, only laughing louder as she recalled the damage accrued away. His shotguns roared, firing at the blue blur as she sped past him, likely to attempt yet again to kill Widowmaker, and knowing it was futile he tossed them away, trusting the blue assassin to handle the impudent Brit. Then he heard a Korean war cry echo above him, and he swore violently, diving out of the way as D.Va’s MEKA crashed into the spot where he had been smirking mere moments earlier.

 

He didn't have time to think. Guns extended, he charged, knowing that the shield she projected wouldn't be able to remove the pellets of his shotguns from point blank. The hulking mech twirled to face him, Hana’s face clearly visible through the glass as he opened fire, and the burning that had been kindled flared brighter as he saw her face.

 

Tear streaked, eyes red rimmed yet determined, eyes that only saw him, eyes that refused to allow him to escape, to possibly wound anymore of her friends. Eyes that were still defiant, when even Tracer had frozen, this small Korean dared to push back against his slaughter and dared to attack him directly. He roared his challenge at her, hellfire alighting as her blasters spun to life against him.

 

The battle raged, Talon lackeys and Overwatch fodder warring as Hana and Tracer engaged the special agents. Then Lucio appeared, music upbeat and roaring, galvanizing the tank forward, finally pushing Reaper back with their combined fire. He barely felt the incoming damage, body healing around any wounds opened within him, but the raw power pumping into him forced him back, step by step. Then Jack appeared, Pulse Rifle pounding as he hammered Reapers back with rounds. Forced into Wraith Form, Reaper came out with a vengeance, Death Blossom flowering as he blanketed the area in hellfire rounds. Rounds impacted on Jack, Lucio and the MEKA alike, but he knew if he didn't kill them, all the blood pooling around their feet would be replaced by the cursed Mercy, and he couldn't aim well enough out of his spin to directly incapacitate them. 

 

“Tactical visor engaged”

 

And suddenly, Death Blossom didn’t matter. His body absorbed the steady stream of plasma, dissolving into black fog and attempting reform, yet the superheated plasma ripped him apart deeper and deeper each passing second. Then Jack’s helix rocket took him in the knee, Hana activating self destruct as Lucio wove sound itself into a cushion from the massive explosion building just in front of them. He forced himself into wraith form a final time, charging at the now exposed Hana with a vengeance, knowing a single blast could split her in two without the armored MEKA in the way.

 

The nuclear blast to his rear reverberated differently, the blast potent enough to shake his cells within the alternate dimension he currently resided in. The power rattled through him, body dissolving into nothing, his final conscious thought a quick ponder of why the blast had been altered, before overpowering darkness robbed him of all conscious thought. The final tendrils of his darkness were blown away, the lightest of interdimensional dust settling upon the souls of all that were within his range.

 

D.Va POV

 

The party raged. If Hana had been able to shake the cold from her bones, she knew that she would have been living it up, possibly dancing with Lucio, but definitely not hunched in a blanket beside the bar Soldier had so begrudgingly provided. McCree was the only other patron at the automated alcohol store, and he had barely spared her a glance since he settled down, drinking with the single minded determination of someone who wished to forget their past.

 

The night whirled around her, people like Soldier, Junkrat, and Zarya congratulating her on the stunning victory over the former Gabriel. Other, like Mercy and Satya, came over to check why the energetic teen, the only who could rival Tracer in cheer and spunk, was quietly drinking after the most resounding victory in Overwatch history. She tried to explain, she really did. That a cold had seeped into her bones after Reaper disintegrated. That on the ride back she had awoken from her sleep shivering and terrified, shadows receding from her mind begrudgingly before the light. Yet all of them chalked it up to combat fatigue and shock. After Mercy elicited a promise to check in tomorrow, Hana surrendered, downing her final shot and trudging off to her room to attempt to sleep. Finally alone, she dozed off within minutes of curling into her blankets.

 

_ A cold, chilling laugh followed her as she ran, scared and alone down the halls of Gibralter. Turning a corner, she was caught by the throat, effortlessly tossed against the cold metal of the hallway by Reaper, mask removed and cold eyes burning. She tried to scramble away, but his booted foot came crashing down on her ankle, snapping it like a twig. She creamed, pain flooding every portion of her body, and all the while Reaper laughed, foot grinding down against the shattered bone. Recovering for just a moment, Hana desperately pulls her pistol out, but before she’s even aimed properly the deafening roar of his shotgun, point plank and aimed square at her arm, rips both her arm and eardrums to pieces. He kneels in front of her, big hands deftly maneuvering a shotgun into her one remaining hand, before he sets the barrel against her temple. Even through the pain and the deafness brought on by the explosion, she hears him whisper “This is the only way this will end”. Hana glances up a final time. The sight of his cold, dead eyes, and the way his other gun is centered upon her heart convinces her he’s not lying. Tears streaming down her face, she does the only thing she can think of. She pulls the trigger. _

 

Hana screamed as she woke up, cold sweat covering her in a noticeable sheen. The normally comforting darkness of her room seemed to leer at her, and panicked, she orders Athena to turn the lights on. She swears the darkness recedes at an imperceptibly lesser rate, retreating like a stain instead of being banished instantly. Shivering, she stands and dresses, ignoring the time and preparing for her day, Athena a drone in the background she steadily ignores.

 

The day is long, monotonous, just another day at Gibraltar. Yet the nightmare followed her everywhere, invading the simple activities, the normally joyous simplicity of video games interrupted by the shadow of Reaper at each turn and juncture. At one point she made the mistake of turning on a shooter game. The first enemy with a shotgun sent her reeling, a sharp spike of irrational fear sending her scurrying. Deeply disturbed, she went to Mercy for some sleep medicine. When she went to bed that night, exhausted from the long day, she downed the pills with a gusto that surprised even her. She pulled up the covers and fell fast asleep.

 

_ This time she wasn’t even given the benefit of mobility. Reapers demonic form solidified next to her bed, clawed hands empty. He ripped the sheets from her body, before casually throwing her across the room. She pitifully tried to crawl away, only for his armored hand to grip her throat and pin her against the wall. With a deft flick of his arm, the powerful claws shredded her pajamas, exposing her completely to his burning gaze. She sharply felt the parallel streaks he had gouged down her breasts and stomach, beginning to ooze crimson rain. She noticed his gaze wasnt fixed on her breasts or genitals. Rather, he watched the mesmeric lines of blood with rapture, hand trailing to them and intentionally aggravating them. Every hiss, every groan he ripped from her forced the claws deeper, the sadistic man gouging into her with gusto. She choked out a whisper _

 

_ “Stop…” _

 

_ The wraiths hand flew back, slapping her before he released her. She crumbled, slightly woozy from blood loss and distinctively oxygen deprived. Reapers boot crashed into her stomach, breaking something and doubling her over in pain. His right hand dragged her up, weak resistance barely noticeable before his comparatively immense strength. Now pinned by the back of her throat, she heard the dull clinking of his belt becoming unlatched. He leaned in, claw moving to purposefully slash her back as bad as her front. _

 

_ “This only ends one way” _

 

_ Hana gave up and sobbed. _

 

The cycle continued. More and more sleep deprived, Hana’s days were spent fighting against the urge to embrace the darkness, for all that lay in wait was the inevitable Reaper, bloodstained claws haunting her every waking moment. The team watched in innumerable attempts to help her creating temporary peace that was inevitably shattered the next morn, when the tortured girl would awake with another fresh nightmare haunting her every move. Try as she might, she could never wake herself up either, and it began to wear on her.

 

_ “You can never escape from me. I am now a part of you”. _

 

Near delirious, but forced onto another mission, only Mercy, Zarya, Soldier and herself available, Reapers voice boomed suddenly, interrupting all other thought she had. The chatter within the dropship ceased to exist to her, noise as indistinguishable as the cooling fans on her desktop back at the base. Snapping back, well aware that in the day was the only time she could fight the freezing soul, she immediately retorted:

 

_ “Then if you can use me, why can’t I use you!?” _

 

The echoing, booming laugh rivaled a drunken Reinhardt, rattling her brain. Flinching violently, hands going to cover her ears, Reaper shook her to the core as the honest amusement seeped from the frigid epicenter within her. 

 

_ “You can. Night belongs to me, but day belongs to you.” _

 

Suddenly, Hana felt an indescribable pain as she began to dissipate, molecules separating to become a dark nimbus. Then she reformed, clothes and body whole again, and took a violent start at a familiar weight nestled itself into her lap. Looking down, she shrieked, violently flinging the newest addition across the room. The hellfire shotgun dissipated as they all do, leaving nothing but a near schizophrenic teenager behind. Mercy was already moving, embracing the smaller girl tightly, nanomachines transferred by touch to stimulate and enhance the calming effect. D.Va didn’t know if they had seen her pulled apart, didn’t know if the shotgun had been real. She couldn’t tell what was real at that moment, the warmth of Mercy and the chilling internal reach of Reaper threatening to burn her nerves to ashes within her. She cried, unsure what was real, and impossibly scared of the thought of performing in the abysmal state she was in.

 

The mission started like any other. The massive bulk of the MEKA scattered the defenders with ease, even subpar aim from D.Va’s end enough to tear apart the people slow to respond and singe the faster ones with rounds. The second surge, however, was vicious. Snipers spread to all sides, lead pouring into D.Va, overloading both her defense matrix and Zarya’s hasty shield. Forcibly ejecting, she launched the mech straight up as the explosion built, charging forward with Zarya’s bulky body shielding her, Soldier activating his visor to fire back on the snipers above them, killing many with holes blossoming between their eyes.

 

Reaching the entrance at last, they prepared to breach. A Helix Rocket was unloaded from the pulse rifle's magazine, stuck to the wall as an impromptu breaching bomb. Even as Jack swore quietly about being unable to bring Junkrat along, the wired explosives ticked down menacingly. Even as the all readied up, nothing could prepare them for what came next.

 

The explosion went off, Zarya forcing her way through the hole first, pulse bombs firing and scattering the massed troopers like bowling pins. However, from their position’s, D.Va and Soldier could see what Zarya’s tunnel vision prevented. Several smart soldiers had lined up like them, countering their breach by creating a choke point.

 

Time slowed down. Hana knew the pulse pistol in her hand could not penetrate and kill the enemy soldiers within the time it would take them to bring Zarya down. Ice flooded her veins, cold sweat overpowering her as a demonic force took control of her left arm, separating it from the secure grip she normally kept on the pistol. The hellfire shotgun she had seen earlier materialized in her unfeeling hand, cracking off a single resounding shot to the head of the first opposing soldier. The explosion of gore prevented the others from seeing as the freezing feeling overtook Hana completely, the alien presence discarding her pistol in favor of another shotgun. They roared, one after the other, dispatching the remaining two with equal precision.

 

Reaper didn't let go. He forced her body to fight as him, teleporting, wraithing, killing. Blood stained the combat suit she wore darker and darker, sticking to her clammy skin with an ever tightening grip. Still Reaper pushed forward, shotguns roaring, hellfire damning all that came in the way of his single minded rampage, ignoring damage to the fragile body he inhabited like rain against a windshield.

 

And then it was over. Hana collapsed, cold receding back into her core to marinate in darkness once again. The dark chuckle echoed through her head, only accentuating the tears that pricked at her eyes from the sightless eyes all around her. Killing had never been this personal. Even now, she saw the shocked faces as Reaper… As she ripped men to pieces with the mighty shotguns. She could barely move her arms. Her body felt heavy, the weight of all that she had seen slain weighing heavily on her. Blood began to drip down her hands, staining the floor of wherever she was a deep maroon. 

 

She couldn’t control him. She wasn’t herself anymore. She willed another shotgun into existence, and suddenly she wasn’t D.Va anymore. She was a tired girl, whose life was slowly belonging to someone else, and their was nothing she could do about it. Reaper would own her soon, and gods knew what he would do with access to both a MEKA supply and his own powers channeling through her. Even now, she felt his cold presence begin to spread through her again, clearly wanting to test his new found power out.

 

Then, with crystal clarity, she remembered what Reaper had said the first time he haunted her, what he had forced her to do.

 

_ “This only ends one way” _

 

Hana calmly placed the barrel against her head, Reaper fighting her every step of the way as she sought the ultimate freedom of humanity. The right to choose where they die.

  
Smiling softly, Hana “D.Va” Song did the only thing that could be done. She pulled the trigger     


End file.
